His Little Shalott
by CompYES
Summary: [OneShot] Sharon loves her brother.It would be a lie to say that that statement was any kind of simple. It would be an even greater lie to say that it was a statement of innocence. Another Real Lady Shalott story, with a twist.


_Disclaimer Thingy: This is another one of those "The Real Lady of Shalott" fics but with a little twist. Go easy on me, please, since this is my first try at a one-shot that's not a song-fic. Anyway, I don't own any Arthurian legend/myth, Tennyson's "Lady of Shalott" do I own Meg Cabot's Avalon High. SO now that we've got that cleared up, let's move along with the story._

* * *

**His Little Shalott**

**By Nana of CompYES**

* * *

Sharon loves her brother.

It would be a lie to say that that statement was any kind of simple. It would be an even greater lie to say that it was a statement of innocence.

Sharon **loves** her brother.

She loves him more than anything in the world. She loves him more than the little figurines he buys her every other month and leaves on her bedside table. When she asks him about them the next morning, he'll smile and then deny he had anything to do with it. He's just sweet like that. And although she loves him more than them, she knows she loves them almost as much as him just because he gave them to her.

She loves that he takes time out of his busy football schedule to spend time with her. She knows how very important football is to him and it makes her feel special. He thinks she's important enough to spend as much time with as he does out on the field playing. That's what makes it so nice.

She loves him because even though he loves his best friend, he loves her even more. When he talks about his best friend, he says he is more special than himself. She does not agree. When she tells him so, he blushes a little, ruffles her hair and then they settle into a comfortable silence. He would give his hardest for his best friend. He would give his life for her.

Sharon hopes, Sharon wishes, Sharon believes that she is his world.

She believes this because she knows he is hers.

Sharon lives in a room. You could say she lives in a house, but most of her life is spent in a room. Sharon is a very sick little girl. She knows she cannot live like a normal little girl. Normal little girls can go outside and play and run and skip and dance. She can to none of these things. All she can do is lie in bed and stare out the window for a glimpse of the sun trying to break through the leaves of the tree and into her room.

All she can do is sigh and wish she was like the light that could break free as well.

* * *

Today is supposed to be special though. Whenever he brings someone from school, he introduces the ones he thinks are special. She has heard him tell her about someone special for a while now. Curiosity stirs within her. She knows all of the little ways he acts. He bites his top lip while smiling, his eyes are very wide and cheery, and his fingers twitch excitedly. She knows this person, whoever they are, is special. All she wants to know is what makes this person so special to him.

Sharon meets her. _The claws set into her heart._

He's holding her hand. He never holds Sharon's hand. Never like that. Hands entwined with one another's in a tight weave of fingers.

He introduces her to Sharon. _They don't tear! They twist, they twist!_

He looks at her and Sharon knows that the only real woman on his mind right now is her. Sharon knows her brother. Sharon knows that he loves her, right?

She's his girlfriend. _Her heart gasps and gives a flutter._

Sharon knows what girlfriends are. Queer feelings of green and red and blue wind and whirl in her gut threatening to explode. But they don't.

They kiss. _Her heart is pulled asunder._

She silently screams. No one hears. Not even her. She screams and screams that he loves her. She wants to live in a world where he loves only her. Only her.

When she cries, he asks her why. She tells him that it is because she is very surprised. He thinks she means she's happy. How wrong he is. She is surprised, but she is not happy. She can no longer be happy now that her world isn't hers any longer.

* * *

Sharon watches.

She's pretty. Sharon knows she can't compete. Sharon knows she herself is pretty. But whatever prettiness she has is clouded by how ill she looks. She's pale, her eyes are sad and dim, her body's thin and frail, and her hair is limp and in knots. Her looks are a mere shadow. Sharon wishes she was prettier. Than maybe he would love her more.

She's full of energy. It practically glowed and swirled around the woman. Sharon knows she could be energetic. But she can never have or use the energy she has the way that woman can. She can't get out of bed and do something as simple as go to the bathroom with out feeling like her body is on fire. Sharon wishes she could be energetic. Than maybe he would want to be with her instead of that woman.

She's kind. Every day she comes over to their house, she stops in Sharon's room to visit. Sometimes Sharon forgets this is the person who took hims away from her. When she remembers, she can't help but hate her. Sharon knows she's not a good person for hating that woman. All she's ever been was kind to Sharon. If only she could be a better person, maybe she could put his happiness before her own. She can't though. She's not that good of a person.

* * *

It's been months. Her hearts hurts. He still buys her figurines. He still hangs out with her. But now he's told her he's going to go away. He's going to marry that woman. As he tells her, his eyes are brighter, his hands are fisted in her pants and his hair is messy. Sharon knows her brother. He's happier than he's ever been with her. She knows it wasn't her that's made him this happy.

And that happiness is killing her.

Is he really happy that he's going to be leaving her?

She wonders this as she listens quietly to her mother babble on about how excited she is for him and white flowers should be bought and what color dress she should buy for Sharon. She is going to be a maid of honor after all.

Sharon could care less.

Now she takes it back. She does care. She's in a wheelchair up at the front of church beside a tall brunette woman and across from an even taller brunet man. They smile at each other as if there's no one else but them. You'd almost believe they were the ones getting married. But they're not. He is.

He stands there on at alter, his gold hair blue eyes and tux making him look dashing. She cries. But everyone thinks she's happy for him. He smiles at her one last time before the bride makes her appearance. She's so beautiful that Sharon has to look away.

Sharon cried all day.

* * *

A year without him. She lived a year without him. She hated every day of it. No more spending time with her. No more figurines on her beside table. No more smiles. All of it was now that woman's. He was hers now and forvever until death do they part. She had been at the wedding. She knew just by looking at them that that was their plan, and they'd stick to it.

No longer. She didn't want to do this anymore. She could never be happy again. He wasn't hers anymore.

She gets up one morning. She fights the pain as she leaves her room. She fights fiercely to stay standing. If only she can make it! And then she was here. She turns the tap. The water gushes forward till the tub is full. She stuggles to pull herself in, but finally, she doesn't have to fight anymore. She's in. She can feel the water embrace her. She floats. And then she sinks.

She doesn't fight.

She doesn't breathe.

She just floats and sinks.

And then she dies.

* * *

Weeks later, it's the day of the funeral. He cries so hard. The tall brunet man puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. The tall brunette woman stands to the side, knowing to keep her distance. She can offer her kind words later. And that woman he loved so much hold him in her arms and lets him weep on her shoulder. She knows he loved her. She knows he loved her so much. He personally packed away her room. And it was he who decided she be buried with all of her figurines.

The priest says a prayer for her and she is put in the ground.

* * *

_"She has a lovely face;  
God in his mercy lend her grace,  
The Lady of Shalott." _– Tennyson, "Lady of Shalott"

* * *

_Nana: Hoped you people liked it! Regardless of the slightly creepy inest thingy... Yeah. And you can hopefully tell which character is which. I totally just threw this out there, so it's okay if you hate on it.  
_


End file.
